


Clan of Three

by LeashedDemons



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Baby Yoda ships it, Eventual Smut, F/M, ManDadlorian, Mando is soft, Sexual Slavery, Soft Din Djarin, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:26:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22193260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeashedDemons/pseuds/LeashedDemons
Summary: Din needs credits -- and that leads him to pick up a shady job and then another job and then, well, you get the picture. But when he picks up a shady job and discovers that he's transporting a young slave to her next master, Din finds himself having a change of heart. The same change of heart that led to him saving the kid. If this keeps up, he won't have credits, but at least the kid likes her. And, maybe he likes her.Maybe just a little.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Characters, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 86





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

> Helloooooo. So this is my Mandalorian fic. I have well-researched this fic and the first chap took me like two-three days to write. Do I have any clue where this takes place in the series? Fuck no. Probably like episode 5ish or something. Right around where Mando is looking for work and stuff and ends up doing shady jobs and stuff. ANYWAY, let me know what you think/if it's actually good and you think I should continue it and such. Thanks for reading and have a good night/day.
> 
> Edit: Also I just realized I forgot to mark this had more chapters. RIP.

He needed work, which was how he always ended up in shady cantinas looking for work. Things were harder since he'd left the Guild and the jobs he was picking up were getting shadier and shadier but he had to get credits somehow, especially with the sleepy bean currently resting in the Razor Crest. Neither of them had eaten in a few days – and even he knew that wasn't good for the young one. He sat down at the cantina counter, glancing around the room. He observed the bartender for a moment then crossed his arms over his chest.

“I'm looking for work.” He says, glancing around. The bartender, a Shahkirin, peered up at him from behind the bar where he was fixing someone else's drink. He blinked a few times, looking him over.

“What kind?” Although the answer seemed obvious, the Shahkirin asked regardless. It seemed more like a test than anything, which Din wasn't particularly fond of. Regardless, he's reminded of the sleeping green one back at the Crest, and reluctantly, he adjusts himself in his seat, a hand subtly finding his blaster on his hip, and leans forward.

“Any kind.” He replied and the Shahkirin blinked again before smiling a little. Then, he removed a transponder and slid it across the table to him. Sighing heavily at the memories that flooded his mind at the _last_ time he held a transponder, he takes the piece into his hands and tucks it away.

“Where to?” Upon the question being proposed, the Shahkirin appeared from behind the counter and waved for Din to follow him, which he did after looking around the cantina once more. Wading through the crowd, he leads Din to a locked room in the back, where a gatekeeper droid emerged from a side-panel. The bartender gestured for him to present the transponder and Din lifted it into view of the droid. Once scanned, the droid beeps and returns inside the panel as the door throws open. Inside is the backroom of the cantina, filled with various boxes and goods.

“Transportation?” Din asked, looking around the room. The Shahkirin continued into the room, waving him in further. He carefully stepped in, hand still on his blaster, following him into the darker part of the room where little light filtered in. Something reminiscent of a large dark bag was perched in the corner, and he couldn't deny his curiosity was piqued.

“Not of the average kind.” Replied the Shahkirin before walking over to the corner where the dark bag was before nudging it and it moved, rather quickly to stand. It was then that Din realized it wasn't a bag after all, but rather a being dressed in a cloak. It was odd – he hadn't missed such a thing before, and yet this _being_ , whatever it was, had managed to hide their presence from him. “Up, up, I've found transport.”

The being remained cloaked as the two approached him, but Din's eyes remained focused on what he could only assume was the package. The Shahkirin held out a small satchel, weighed down considerably, and Din took it, pocketing it.

“Don't touch or bring harm to it **or** remove this hood.” The Shahkirin gestured to the hood as if in emphasis. “You receive half now, the other half upon delivery.”

“Where to?” Din echoed his earlier question. The Shahkirin grinned.

“Batuu.”

The walk back to the Razor Crest was silent. They walked quietly beside him, easily matching his stride. The cloak prevented him from seeing anything about them, concealing them completely from head-to-toe. He briefly considered switching to thermal, but remembered the Shahkirin's words.

_“Don't touch or bring harm to it **or** remove this hood.”_

Din wouldn't say he was a curious person, but this was definitely something that had him wondering. The Child incident aside, he was wondering what exactly it was that he was transporting and why so far. Not long after they boarded, the being opted for a seat in the cargo bay, where they returned to the same position they had been in inside the storeroom. Din returned to the cockpit, where he set the course for Batuu and checked on the small green bean, who was now awake and cooing in his space crib. Din sighed and lifted him out of the compartment, placing him on his lap as he began flipping switches, preparing to enter hyper-drive.

“Shh. We have a visitor.” Din replied when he cooed again, removing the small ball from the dashboard that he loved to play with so much and giving it to him. He cooed happily, albeit a bit quiet this time and Din grasped the controls as the _Razor Crest_ roared to life, carefully lifting from the ground. Once they were far enough away into space, the planet of Ajan Kloss barely a dot on the horizon, he flipped the switch for hyper-drive.

_**One Day Later** _

“Are you hungry?” Din asked of the being that was _still_ curled up in the same spot of the cargo bay. He honestly wasn't sure if they were awake or not. Was this what it was like to talk to him? He waited for an answer, holding a small bowl of soup before kneeling. Immediately, they turned away from him, but it didn't prevent him from seeing what he saw.

A pair of lips, plump and covered in a thick layer of white with a red stripe down the center. _Hmm_ , Din thought to himself, tucking the image away for later thought. He offered the bowl and what he assumed to be a cloaked arm lifted, and then a hand, also covered in a thick layer of white emerged from underneath the cloak to carefully, gently, take the bowl. The cloaked head nods and the figure turns away as it's brought to the same lips Din had just seen and with a few sips, the bowl is returned to him empty.

“Thank you.” Came a whisper. So soft that Din wondered if he was even hearing it. He took the bowl from the hand, taking the time to inspect it, noting there was some scarring on the upper wrist, trying and failing to be hidden by the cloak and what seemed to be white paint on skin. He gave a dismissive nod and wandered off, wondering exactly what it was he was delivering and what for.

_**Half a Day Later** _

It was a shorter trip than Din had expected. They would arrive at Batuu in a few hours, if that, but he was debating the delivery of his package. They hadn't spoken since he'd given it soup the day prior, instead opting for what seemed to be sleep in the same spot. It hadn't moved, hadn't even twitched, and if Din didn't know better, he'd think it was dead. However, it was obvious from its behavior in the storeroom and the cargo bay that it was used to being confined in such spaces, especially for long periods, without the use of the vacc tube, food or even water. This only made him wonder what the creature could be being delivered to – no doubt a fate similar to, if not worse than the young one.

Normally, he would just deliver the asset, collect his credits and be done with it, but the young one had forced a change in his conscience, in his heart. Not only that, but something was endearing about the creature. It was smaller, much smaller than him, perhaps four foot seven and the scars hidden underneath white body paint pulled on something within him. A protective desire, the same one that had made him keep the kid. Similarly, how they'd turned from him as if shrinking from an abusive fist and their lips had trembled. He didn't know why but he felt beholden to protect it – same as the child.

Maybe that was why even as he arrived at Batuu and the being stood as the ship landed with a soft _thunk_ , he fought within himself. He needed credits, but he couldn't just hand the being over. What were they to do with it? Kill it? Torture it? Surely it was too small to defend itself. Krill, what even was it? Would it even want to be saved? Perhaps it was so used to the lashings that trying to save it would cause more damage. Additionally, it was another mouth to provide for.

As the ship's cargo bay opened and he descended, the being followed beside him, arms at its sides, head slightly tilted downward as the moon of Batuu, Destra, hit them from its point in the sky. Din tossed a coin to the hangar's manager and continued forward, not particularly caring if the being was following, assuming that they were (and judging by the gentle shuffle of fabric against dirt, it was). Going through the hangar's corridors and another door, they were finally into the streets of the settlement of Galma.

The being seemed to be uncomfortable, as it stepped a little closer to him, a hand covered in the cloak clasping around his arm. He glanced down through the visor on his helmet, surprised, but made no move to stop them as he began wading through the crowds, searching for a place of lodging for the night. After all, he didn't have to deliver them until tomorrow. Unless there was a reward for early delivery, he wouldn't be early.

Finding a flophouse, he went inside, the being still clinging to his arm, nearly able to feel nails through both the fabrics. He strode up to the front desk confidently and requested a single bedroom. The keeper, a Toydarian, tossed a transponder to him after he tossed a small bag of credits onto the counter. He grumbled a number under his breath, then pointed behind him, where a tall Artiodac stepped up and gestured behind him.

Glancing around momentarily and then back down at the creature clinging to him, Din followed the Artiodac through a series of long hallways filled with doors with gatekeeper droids until he stopped at one, gestured, grunted and then walked away.

“Excellent customer service,” Din mumbled underneath his breath before lifting the crit to the droid's view, where it scanned with a beep and the doors opened to reveal a quaint, one-bedroom with a small refresher. It wasn't the best, but he supposed it wasn't the worst. It would do for the time being. The creature beside him released his arm and he watched as it entered, the cloak pooling around their feet not dissimilar to the child and approached the bed in the room, sitting down on it slowly and bouncing slightly.

“You like that?” He asked, a small chuckle present in his voice. The cloaked head nods and it bounces a little more. He shakes his head as he enters the room, the door shutting behind them. The cloaked head snaps up now, on high alert and it's then that he recalls the Shahkirin's words again.

“ _Don't touch or bring harm to it **or** remove this hood.”_

He wonders for a moment why the creature is nervous but doesn't say anything. Instead, he returns to the door and then turns halfway.

“I'll be back.” With that, he leaves, the door shutting behind him, leaving the creature there. Was it a huge gamble leaving his asset there? Yes. Did he have full confidence he'd be able to run it down again? Also yes. A part of him was curious about what it would do. Another part of him wanted to see how obedient it was. He'd also seen some suspicious people in the flophouse lobby and _maybe_ using it as bait wasn't a good idea, but he wasn't exactly the most moral person in the universe.

He returned less than a half-hour later with their luggage and the child in tow, who was no longer resting and was sitting upright in his space crib, ears twitching with obvious curiosity as they entered the flophouse. It was quieter than before, still pretty busy, but Din noticed a few people had filtered out (or at least weren't in the lobby). He started down the series of hallways that the concierge, or the equivalent of a concierge had shown him but paused when he heard a rumble and a soft noise coming from down the hallway. He waved behind him and the child's crib moved behind the wall behind him.

He unclipped his rifle off his back and carefully crept up to the door of their room, switching his helmet to thermal viewing. As he peered through, he could see his asset or what seemed to be his asset, curled up on the floor with two figures standing over them. Two? That was all? He was disappointed that they only sent two. Then again, they were a _very large_ two. Creeping slowly around the corner with his rifle in hand, he listened to their conversation.

_“Well, what are we gonna do with her?”_

_“We could always just sell her.”_

_“Sell her? Man, this is some prize merchandise right here.”_

He groaned internally when the doorkeeper droid popped out of the wall, demanding his transponder and in the process alerting the two to his presence. In the thermal view, he could see them turn and start for the door. He moved, turning to completely face the door and prepared the rifle. The second the door slid open, he fired, vaporizing a very large, white Weequay. His companion, also of his kind, released a shocked gasp, before Din had reloaded and vaporized him as well. He entered the room carefully, scanning it for any other enemies before lowering the rifle.

As he turned to face his now-secured quarry, he was surprised to find the hood removed from their head and a pure white-covered face greeted him. It was a female – human, her face painted white, very dark brown hair pulled up into a smooth, tight crown braid, but what stopped him, paused him in his very tracks was her eyes: one was blue and the other was a soft purple. Red paint formed lines like tear trails down her cheeks, stopping just above her jaw. Dissimilar eyes stared up at him from her position on the floor where she was on her knees, hands still inside the cloak and it hit him like a train.

_She was a slave_.

Just beneath the cloak was a collar, metallic, shining underneath the shitty fluorescent light of the flophouse and as it caught his eye from beneath his helmet, he realized exactly what _kind_ of slave she was. Painted as she was, with eyes like that and a collar around her throat like some kind of animal, Din knew all too well just what kind of slave she was. Slowly, he dropped his rifle to his side, sighed heavily, the sound heavily modulated by his helmet.

_Well_ , it seemed his decision was made.

Having now remembered herself, she quickly seized the hood of the cloak and pulled it back over her head, concealing herself once more from his view. He studied her for a moment, noticing how she was once again unknown to him as she returned to the corner where she was when he left and curled up. His concentration is interrupted by the coo of the child behind him, whose crib floats into the room with ease, his ears twitching as he appears to evaluate the situation. The door shut behind him, and Din sighed.

“Get some rest.” Though it didn't need to be said, he felt the need to fill the silence with some sort of statement as he set his rifle in the corner. He glanced around before deciding upon a shower. He entered the small refresher and began to carefully remove the heavy Beskar, starting with his pauldrons, then with the cuisse, and finally the breastplate. He continued to remove his clothing until he was left in nothing but his helmet. He turned on the water and let it run, water running hot. A sigh was filtered through the modulation of the helmet before he grasped the metal by both sides and removed it, setting it nearby as he stepped into the shower and let the water run down his taut muscles and relax him.

He wasn't in the shower for long and dressed quickly, helmet going first. He was dressed halfway, torso still dripping wet when he heard a noise come from the room. Pausing and turning his head in the direction of the sound, he saw nothing besides the child in his crib. That was certainly curious, considering his quarry had been in the corner when he'd gotten in the shower. Perhaps she'd decided to run. He removed his blaster from his side and aimed it carefully in front of him as he approached the door to the refresher, which opened with a soft _woosh_.

“D-don't m-move!” Before he can move, his own rifle is shoved into his face and a soft tentative voice, struggling to be aggressive commands him to the best of her ability. Though she can't see it, he's quirking his brow. It's somehow cute, seeing her standing there pointing a rifle at _him_ , a Mandalorian and trying her best to appear intimidating. However, as cute as it was, _she_ was the quarry, not him.

Before she can stop him, he grabs the rifle and pulls it from her hands, bringing her with it, her body hitting his and then collapsing against the ground, hood falling off her head. She stares up at him, fear and intimidation visible in her face as she scrambles backward, her back colliding with the bed. Her lip is trembling and he can see tears threatening to spill over the edges of her terrified eyes.

“P-please! I-I'm sorry.” She pleads, tears finally spilling over and following the path of the red paint on her face. “I-I...I won't do it again.”

“No, you won't.” He says simply, grasping the rifle and returning to the refresher, the door shutting behind him where he finished dressing and strapped the rifle back on him. When he returned a few moments later, he found her asleep on the floor, curled up in the fetal position. The child was standing next to her, studying her, ears twitching and cooing. Hearing him, he turns and coos at Din, who lifts him and returns him to his crib. Then, he returns and carefully lifts her, placing her on the pillows of the bed, where she immediately curls into the bedding, fisting the blankets in her small hands and nuzzling her face into the pillows.

“Rest well, little one.”


	2. Two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din delivers his quarry and discovers more about her.

  
It was the day of the delivery. He gathered their things and they left the flophouse early, loading their things back onto the Razor Crest. She was awake before he was, sitting in what Din had deemed her corner when he awoke and she was silent for the entire walk back to the ship. Even as he left the child there, who cooed sadly at her and reached out for her as he closed the doors to his crib. She remained silent and walked beside him as they traveled through the streets of Galma.

He checks the location again before continuing down the streets, towards a large building close to the center. She walks not far behind him, glancing around somewhat nervously. He notes this and grabs the sleeve of her cloak and pulls her a little closer, though she stumbles and nearly falls into him. She keeps with him as they approach the building, where another doorkeeper droid popped out of the paneling. He removed the transponder the original client gave him and it scanned with a distinct beep, the doors opening.

He stepped inside, her following reluctantly but close on his heels. He was greeted by a long dark hallway leading to what seemed to be an elevator. He groaned internally, but continued his stride down the hallway, stopping in front of the door as it opened, a green light flashing briefly. He stepped inside with her in tow, the door shutting behind them and the elevator rumbled to life, surging upwards powerfully. When they reached the destination floor, the doors opened and they were greeted by the sight of two people: one was a purple Tarsunt with white hair, the taller of the two, and an orange Twi'lek, standing to the rear of the Tarsunt.

The Tarsunt turned when they entered, long fingers threading together upon their entry. A smile pressed onto his features as he stepped in, her in tow behind him. The Twi'lek followed him as he stepped up to them, fingers drumming against the knuckles of his opposite hand as he approached her by Din's side. She seemed to glance at him from underneath the cloak, but he couldn't tell, before moving to stand before the Tarsunt, who made a noise akin to glee.

“Ah! Mandalorian, you have delivered a precious cargo.” He gestured to the Twi'lek behind him who hurriedly removed a medium-sized bag and approached Din, giving it to him. Din weighed the bag of credits in his hands as he watched in his peripheral as the Tarsunt approached her, long fingers reaching out to gently grasp the hood and slide it off her head.

Her head is bowed slightly, visibly subservient, and her eyes are closed, though opening when the hood falls around her shoulders. Her new master claps and squeals with excitement, clapping as two eyes, opposite colors, peer up at him. The Tarsunt then continues, grasping the collar of the cloak and giving it a harsh tug. It comes loose with ease, pooling around her feet.

She has a small body, painted white, with the exposed skin draped in a white wispy sort of clothing that wraps around her in the way bedding might, except it's somehow more graceful, and the collar of the clothing is her metallic slave collar, which the Tarsunt drags a finger along, licking his lips as though he's about to sate his hunger for a delicious meal. Din's hands tenses at his side, tempted to grasp his blaster, shoot both of them and whisk her out of there.

It was simultaneously the hardest and the easiest job he'd ever done. The Twi'lek waved him off, even going as far as to escort him to the elevator, but he continued watching her and the Tarsunt out of the corner of his eye. He could see her visible discomfort, though she did her best to hide it. To any normal observer, she was fine, but to _him_ , she wasn't. There was the subtle tension in the muscles of her neck and back as the Tarsunt reached up and drug a paw down the side of her face, following the path of red down her cheek and stopping at the collar of misery around her throat. Krill knows how, but he grasped the collar and pulled her toward him, a soft, shocked gasp coming from her lips.

The sound echoed in his mind, and he was suddenly reminded of how her eyes had looked in the flophouse the day prior. The blue one like the waters of Mon Cala and the purple unlike any gem or planet he'd ever seen; nothing in the galaxy could compare. Perhaps that was why she was being sold. His hand tensed at his side when the elevator opened, and he made his choice. His free hand grasped his blaster and he turned, firing a shot into the chest of the Twi'lek, who went down with a gasp.

The Tarsunt turned midway, grasping her by the collar on the throat in the process and she began to choke right away. The sound filling his ears, he fired a shot into its chest without regret. It gasped similarly to its companion as it too went down, falling to the ground and bringing her with it. She fell with a hard _thunk_ , and Din pocketed the blaster, running over to her, prying the creature's fingers from the collar around her throat.

She stared up at him, visibly dazed and somewhat oxygen-deprived, eyes half-lidded. His gloved hand wrapped around her side and lifted her half of the way as he stared down into her face, already hearing what was likely reinforcements coming.

“Can you walk?” He asked her. She nodded slowly as he helped her up. He pulled her close to his side as a door on the far side of the room opened and blaster fire immediately filled the air, Din removing his blaster to fire back as they retreated into the elevator, the doors shutting just in time. She clung to him for dear life and even at that moment, when their lives are threatened and he's sure they won't get out at least without a scrape, it somehow feels good. It feels good to him to have her clinging to him like this, to feel so safe by him that she wants to be close to him.

The elevator door opened to reveal the long hallway, which he strode into and pulled her along, eyes darting back and forth behind the helmet as he prepared for an attack. The door to the building opened as they approached it and keeping her close to his side, Din lowered his blaster to his side and entered into the crowd of Galma. He glanced behind him to see the doors open, a couple of creatures filter out, look around and then return, unable to see them through the crowd.

He sighed in relief and ducked behind a corner of a building, turning her in his arms to give her a look over. Her hair was slipping out of it's braid, eyes visibly panicked but focused on him as he grasped her chin and turned her head left to right, searching for any sign of injury. He took her shoulders and gently pushed her back, looking her over completely and seeing no injuries, he gave a nod and turned, heading for the Razor Crest. She followed behind him with a scared eagerness, but a soft gasp from behind him caused him to pause and reach for his blaster at his side.

“Don't.” A deep voice warned. “You do it, I kill the girl.”

He put his hands up in the air as if surrendering and slowly turned, observing her through the visor of his helmet. A bounty hunter, also a human, was clinging to her by the collar around her throat and had a blaster firmly pressed to her temple. She was trembling, both eyes filled with fear and lips quivering as she searched for any sign of emotion in the visor of his helmet.

“Let her go.” His voice was gruff, warning, and modulated as he stared down the other hunter. The opposite hunter adjusted the blaster on her temple as he approached Din carefully.

“Will do.” He replied simply, throwing her to the ground and in the same moment, turning the blaster to fire. Din drew the blaster from his hip and fired, the man falling immediately beside her, gasping and gushing blood from the wound.

“Come on! Let's go.” He snaps, putting the blaster into the holster on his hip. He turned to walk away, but paused, not feeling her following him. He turned, seeing her touching the man's wound, blood coating her fingers. He turned and as he craned his head, he saw that her front was splattered with his blood, likely when he fired the shot. He approached her and spoke again, this time softer. “Come on, we have to go.”

When she didn't move, he glanced around and bent down, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. She gives a small gasp but makes no move to fight him. He carries her to the Razor Crest, gently tossing her to the floor of the cargo bay. She curled up in a fetal position as he climbed the ladder to the cockpit, started the engine of the Razor and inputting coordinates before returning to her in the cargo bay.

She was sitting now, beholding the blood coating her fingers with a dazed expression. He bent down to her and grabbed her bloody hand, pulling it up and away from her view. Her eyes shifted slowly to the visor of his helmet, where she struggled to read his expression behind the black glass. He peered down at the sanguine liquid coating her fingers and with a tilt of his head, pulled her up from the floor.

She follows without question as he leads her into the refresher, flipping the water to cold and he runs her hand underneath the water. Her daze continues as she watches the blood flow from her hands, down her arm and eventually down the drain. She seems to snap out of it then, looking at him and he realized then that her face was partially covered in blood, along with her neck, shoulder and some of her dress.

She seemed to understand what he was looking at, Kriff knows how and separated herself from him to begin stripping herself of the stained material. He had the decency to look away, hearing her step inside the refresher and the water begin to hit the wall, likely after bouncing off her skin. He found himself turning to look, a concern rising within him. When he turned, he found she was turned away from him, water falling down the planes of her back and pooling around her buttocks and legs. The water ran a mixture of pale red and white, disappearing down the drain, but went unnoticed by him as his eyes scanned the expanse of her back. As the water washed away the blood, it also washed away the white paint, revealing ivory skin beneath it and along with it, the scars littering it.

A litany of scars covered the expanse of her skin, some old, some healing, and some were thick, and some thin. He drank in the sight of each scar, memorized their thickness, their state of healing, locations, and made a silent vow to one day take every one of those scars and leave them on someone else. He watched the water flow down her back before his eyes found her face again through his visor. She was looking at him with those damned virtuous eyes of hers.

So sad and yet, they beheld him like he was the only being in the universe. Her lips trembled, but now he was starting to think it was due to the cold of the shower. He leaned forward and shut off the water, watching as water droplets dripped from the strands of her hair and that wretched collar of hers, eventually disappearing down the drain. He turned and grabbed a towel, offering it to her. Slowly, she stood and wrapped it around her, peering up into the visor of his helmet, searching for any signs of emotion.

“Thank you.” She murmurs, brushing a wet hair back from her face. He gave a simple nod and turned, walking out of the refresher and into the cargo bay, where he pulled out a cot. It clanged as he pulled it to its full length.

She waddled out, the towel still wrapped around her, watching as he moved to his cot, which was close to the compartment where he stashed the kid when he wasn't on the Razor and removed some blankets and a pillow. He tossed them on the cot, gesturing. She gave a soft smile as she stepped past him, stroking the material of the blankets. He walked over to the ladder, climbing it and returning to the cockpit, leaving her to rest.

Even as he sat in the pilot's seat and grasped the controls, he couldn't get her out of his head. Not with those eyes, staring up at him, soft and pleading; or those scars covering her back, and likely, even more covering the rest of her body. It ignited a fire within him, a deep profound rage and he gripped the controls tightly in his hands. He would make sure that never happened to her again, even if it killed him.


	3. Three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din learns more about the girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've noticed this has been getting a lot of hits so idk I decided to update. Please let me know what you guys think. The views are definitely uplifting, but comments are always welcome! They fuel me!!! GIVE ME LOVE.

He stepped down the ladder into the cargo bay, turning once he landed on the floor of the bay to see that she was still curled up in the blankets. They were gathered around her small frame messily, covering some parts of her and revealing others. One hand fisted the material tightly in her hand, the other rested off the edge, fingertips twitching occasionally. The more interesting thing, though, was that the child was curled up with her, his small brown eyes closed as he snuggled into the skin of her chest. They both looked so calm, peaceful almost, and it made his heart thud a little in his chest. Suddenly, as if on cue, her eyes opened, blue and purple orbs reflected in his visor.

She sat up slowly and brought the blankets to her chest, face flushing, awaking the child in the same moment. It was then that he realized how indecent she was – she hadn't dressed from the night before. Plush ivory thighs, small ankles, and collarbones marked by small scars peeked out from underneath the blankets. He turned immediately, a sound akin to a screech coming through the voice modulator. He heard some shifting behind him, the sound of fabric against skin and then the sound of the child cooing.

“He's hungry.” Came her soft voice and he turned, seeing her in her blood-stained dress once more, holding the child to her chest as he cooed happily, eyes wide and ears twitching. “Do you have any food?”

“Yes.” He replied simply, turning and rummaging around momentarily before pulling out some rations he saved from their previous stop. She took them from him and fed the child as she held him, taking a seat on the cot. The way she held him with a smile pressed onto her face, an endeared look in her eyes, it was almost like she was his mother.

“We'll be arriving on Endor soon.” He looked her over as he started to climb the ladder upwards to the cockpit, where he took his place in the pilot's seat, flipping a few switches and taking over flying as he felt her join him, taking a seat behind him. The child rested on her lap, cooing now and then, ears twitching as stars passed above them. “There we can get you some more suitable clothing.”

“Do you not like my clothing?” She questioned, her voice surprisingly monotone. He supposed it was something she'd learned over the years from masters, to not express emotions to avoid being punished. He tilted his head, thinking for a moment on how to respond.

“They aren't suitable for your needs.” He replied simply. “We can use the credits I was paid for you.”

Was that the most eloquent way to say that? Absolutely not, but Din wasn't an eloquent man. She didn't seem to mind, and even if she did, she didn't say anything. Instead, she set the young one inside his crib to rest more and sat back down quietly. Endor is a planet with various terrains and species, among them being the Ewoks and Yuzzums, and one that Din had visited perhaps once or twice. He landed the Razor Crest just outside of the outpost and began preparing to leave the ship.

“Am I to come with you?” She asked as she followed him down the ladder into the cargo bay, leaving the child in the cockpit. He paused as he flipped a switch, opening the ship's hangar, turning to look at her. He recalled the last time he'd taken her into a town and sighed, debating for a moment. Then again, he couldn't exactly get her clothes without her being there.

“Yes.” He replied, stepping down the ramp. “Stay close.” He heard some scuffling behind him and then out of his peripheral, he saw her beside him, a slight pep in her step as she walked beside him. He's thankful for the helmet because she couldn't see the smile that had crept onto his face.

He was looking at the various stands in the bazaar of the outpost, surveying his options and thinking of what they would need in the coming months. She was not far behind him, peering around him at the vendors and their goods, almost as if she hadn't seen anything like it before (and a part of him was afraid of that very real possibility). After picking up a few portions of meat for the young one as well as some fruits, he continued to stride through down the streets, pausing when he didn't feel her behind him.

He turned, finding her admiring the clothing of a small shop set-up in the bazaar. He gave a small sigh and turned around, returning to her side whilst glancing around for any immediate or eventual threats. Finding none, he followed her as she surveyed each item, eyes wide with pure adulation as thin fingers drifted across the fabrics.

“See anything you like?” He asked, removing the bag containing his credits and letting them clink around as he watched her look over each item, visibly excited. She gave a wide smile as she grasped a fabric that caught her eye and he couldn't help it as he sighed again – for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. “Are you sure?”

She turned, holding it up to her and nodding excitedly. He tilted his head at the outfit, noting it's practicality, how starkly different it was to her current outfit, and yet, it seemed to fit her so well. Or at least, the personality that was hiding beneath the broken slave demeanor. He turned to the vendor, a small, short Ewok, and gestured, gaining its attention. They bickered for a moment before Din removed a few credits from the bag and tossed it to the small bear-like creature, who accepted it with glee.

She, too, was filled with glee and hugged the outfit all the way back to the Razor Crest. Once back, she retreated into the refresher to change. She came into the cockpit once she was changed and boy, he thought she was a vision before. She was a hell of a vision now. She was wearing a pair of beige tactical pants with a thigh holster for a blaster, a matching button-up shirt, and a bandolier was strapped across her chest, resting rather suggestively between her breasts. A pair of combat greaves not dissimilar to his own were worn on her feet, the laces are done up tightly.

“Do I look...more pleasing now?” She asked, her head tilted to the side.

“You look...fine.” He replied, turning around in the chair to face the control board. She looked like a warrior...aside from the slave collar still clinging to her throat. He made a silent note to ask someone about how to remove it, but he had a feeling the collar might never be removed and that ignited anger within him, just like the scars on her back and arms did.

“Are you not pleased, Master?” The second the words spilled from her rosy lips, he reacted, spinning in the chair and grasping her wrist in his gloved hands, perhaps a bit too tightly.

“I am _not_ your Master. Do not call me so!” The words came through his voice modulator more harshly than he intended and she flinched away from him, though struggling with his hold on her wrist. He held her for a moment, blinded by his anger at the words, backing her against the wall of the cockpit as she stared up at him, searching his visor frantically for any sign of the man underneath. Then, unexpectedly, he released her and returned to the pilot's seat. She was quiet behind him and he could still feel her pressed against the wall, fear radiating off of her like a smell. Then, he heard her as she slowly slid down the wall and sat on the floor. He tilted his head and breathed slowly, the sound made louder by the modulator on his helmet.

“I'm sorry.” He starts, not looking back at her as he stared out the front window. “You're free. No one is your Master.”

There was silence for a moment, but it wasn't unpleasant. The fact that she was free was still sinking in and even as they sat in silence at that moment, he didn't think that even then she realized just how free she was. He had a feeling it'd be some time before she realized that and he didn't mind -- he was looking forward to being there for that journey.

“Do you know how to shoot?” He asks, opening the compartment that held all his weapons. She tilted her head in curiosity from where sat on the ladder leading up to the cockpit. They hadn't left Endor yet – he'd elected to stay for a few days, lay low and let the heat settle from what had happened on Batuu. She wasn't opposed, of course, having been enamored by the scenery of Endor the second they'd landed.

“No, sir.” She'd taken to using the phrase instead of master. It seemed he couldn't fully deprive her of calling him such things, but at least it wasn't master. Sir he could actually live with. He removed a blaster, looking through the sight momentarily before gesturing for her to follow as he left the Razor Crest. Noting a few choice branches that would be good targets, he had her stand about ten feet from the targets and handed her the blaster. He gestured to each branch, then stood beside her, showing her where the trigger was.

“Aim, then pull this.” He says. She gave a small nod, though she was visibly nervous. He stepped back, watching as she lifted the blaster, clamped an eye shut, and fired the blaster. It missed the first branch by a long shot, instead hitting a trunk and frying it completely. She made an embarrassed expression and lowered the blaster.

“I-I'm so sorry!” She exclaimed, keeping it lowered as Din approached her. He shook his head and then came up behind her. He used his hand to lift hers, forcing her to mirror him, and used his leg to gently knock hers further apart, correcting her stance. His free hand moved to her hips, turning her more towards him and pushing her chest outward.

“Look down the scope.” He spoke through the modulator into her ear, keeping his hands on her hips and over her hand. “Find your target, when you feel you've got it, take a deep breath...” In the same moment, they both breathed in and his finger over hers pulled the trigger of the blaster, firing it and the branch was severed from the tree by the blast. “And take it out.”

He released her, watching from a few steps back as a smile spread across her features and she laughed.  _Kriff_ , she  **fucking** laughed! The sound, melodic and the most beautiful sound he's ever heard, echoed in his helmet. He watched as she lowered the blaster and looked at him, pointing as the branch fell, and said something, but he didn't hear it. No, he was focused on the way her plump lips had spread across her face and her pearly white teeth shone in the sunlight of Endor. He wanted to record the sound of her laugh so that he could replay it when the sound wasn't around any longer.

The sound of the child cooing behind him brought him back to reality and he turned, seeing the young one standing on the ship's ramp, looking around curiously. He descended slowly, waddling a little as he walked and Din picked him up when he reached the bottom. He rubbed over the skin of his head before finding his ear and massaging it, which caused the small bean to shut his eyes and lean into the touch.

“Hungry?” He asked, speaking to both the one in his arms and the girl across from him. The baby's eyes opened right away and he reached a little hand up, cooing excitedly.

_ Guess that answers that question _ . He thought to himself.

He'd killed a blurrg for them all to eat and then started a fire and they'd already eaten half of it. Din supposed he'd have to sneak some of it away before the two new members of his crew devoured the rest of it. He watched as both the child and the girl ate their fair share and that's when he realized it – he didn't even know her name. Did she even have a name? Surely she did. Then again, sometimes slaves weren't given names because they were considered so lowly...which brought another question to mind.

“Have you always been a slave?” The question is abrupt, causing her to stop chewing the food she already has in her mouth, and she looks a bit sheepish, or perhaps a bit more disturbed, by the question. She sits there for a few moments as if thinking about it before she continues chewing and then she swallows.

“No, sir.” She remarks, taking another small bite off the blurrg bone she held. He nodded slowly, rolling the information around in his mind, debating it, processing it, before speaking again.

“What is your name?”

“I am called Valkyrie, sir.” She replied after chewing the bite she'd just taken, tossing aside the bone for some other forest creature to delight in. “Is there anything else you'd like to know?”

“Where are you from?” He took the last half of the blurrg off the fire and began to tear pieces off, setting some aside for himself, but also preparing to give her a bit more, having made note of her thinness earlier in the refresher. It was obvious she hadn't been fed well – not that such a thing was uncommon with slaves.

“Dantooine, sir.” She says, voice lowered this time and before he can ask another question, she speaks up again. “I lived in a small village there that was invaded when I was young. I was sold into slavery afterward.” She gave a dismissive shrug, but he could see by the tears in her eyes that she was struggling not to cry.

He offered her more of the blurrg and she smiled, taking it from him with a thankful nod. She looked him over, and he could feel it and he shifted a bit underneath her gaze. She turned completely towards him and leaned forward a little, head tilting.

“What about you?” She asked, eyes a little wide with curiosity.

“What  _ about _ me?” He echoed, tone slightly sarcastic as he threw it back at her.

“Well, do you have a name?”

Before he can say anything, the child bursts into tears, interrupting the conversation and Din can't say that he isn't thankful for the interference. She turned to the young one and lifted him, embracing him to her chest and murmuring soft reassurances as she carried him over to his pod. She patted his head, smoothing over the skin of his ears and he hummed happily, nuzzling into her chest, eyes shutting. Within moments, he was asleep and she placed him inside the pod. She turned and opened her mouth to resume the conversation but Din was already striding for the Razor Crest, some of the cooked blurrg in his hand.

“Get some rest.” He said passively, not slowing down as he walked past her and into the ship. She remained outside, admiring the forestry of Endor, allowing him to eat inside, and he removed his helmet, setting it aside, watching as she sat by the fire, blue and purple eyes staring up at the starlit sky in awe. She was smiling, plump rose lips spread wide as though they might just fall right off her face and he couldn't help it as he, too, smiled.


	4. UPDATING SOON!

Hello to anyone who still follows this story,

I just wanted ya'll to know that I will (hopefully) be updating soon! I am currently working on updating a number of my stories on here and this is one of them. So sorry for the lack of updates! I recently finished the new Mandalorian season so I def got ideas for this story! I hope ya'll will read the new chapter when it comes out! Stay tuned! 

-LD


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